Looking out my window… dark. It was in the high 70’s today. We’ve got 92% of the sun obscured up here so it should be interesting tomorrow.
I am thinking… about the political situation in this country.
I am thankful… that many people clicked on the links I shared in my Quick Takes this past week. I know not everyone agrees with my viewpoint on this blog, so I was really thankful that people did read what I shared.
One of my favorite things… lamb gyros. I just found a local source so I’m really happy.
I am wearing… jammies. Church clothes were a black patterned top, black slacks, my black cardigan, and black flats. Regular clothes were my blue-green fitted tee and black capris.
I am creating… notes on my Business English book. Woo.
I am watching… the news.
I am hoping… the next 2.5 weeks until kiddo goes back to school goes quickly. He’s chomping at the bit and he really does like having the scheduled time he has in the classroom.
I am learning… how my Sacred Ordinary Days planner works.
In my kitchen… pork roast, corn, potatoes, and salad for dinner with pie and ice cream for dessert.
In the school room… waiting for kiddo to get his school supply list in the mail.
I am thinking… about Charlottesville, my own privilege, and the need to speak out and say, as a white woman, that the neo-Nazi crap going on there is abhorrent.
I am thankful… for last night. My youngest cousin called to let us know that she and her mom had just bought her wedding dress and she was coming up to show it to my grandmother. When we were taking the pictures with her and grandma (who was miraculously alert and smiling), we discovered that the portrait of my late grandfather in his Navy uniform was photobombing them. We had a good laugh and got teary because we miss him and photobombing them is totally something he would have enjoyed doing. (My cousin and I were beloved by him so she’s ecstatic that he was there in spirit last night.)
One of my favorite things… sleep. I’m not getting enough of it.
I am wearing… my blue-green fitted tee and jeans. Church clothes were the tee with black slacks, my black cardigan, and my black flats.
I am creating… my last two reports and journals for my Interpersonal Communications class.
I am reading listening to… the Andante movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in D Major Op. 28.
I am hoping… what I just ate and drank will get my blood sugar to where it needs to be and I won’t feel so hypoglycemic.
I am learning… the fingers that are least painful to prick with my glucometer. I am also trying to get a baseline for what “normal” should feel like.
In my kitchen… just noshed on some Chinese pork.
In the school room… class ends for me this week (4 chapters to outline for the quiz, 2 reports, and 2 journals due on Wednesday) and then I get to spend some time outlining the Business English textbook so I can test out of the class.
Closing Notes: My priest made an interesting point this morning. She commented that it is an example of white privilege that she was able to step away from the Internet and all the coverage of Charlottesville to go help at a community event raising money for the local theater. For many people, the presence of the jerks in Charlottesville is not something that they can escape. I have friends whose relatives were in concentration camps, whose family members perished, and for whom the neo-Nazi presence was a reminder that there are people there who want to kill them and their children for being Jewish or of Jewish extraction.
For people of color, they are reminded every day of their lower status in America and quite a few people have commented that if the protesters with tiki torches had been African-American, the National Guard would have been called in to quell the protest. Others have offered equivocations that the Antifa and BLM are as bad as the neo-Nazis and that’s utter bullshit. First of all, most of the Antifa just want to go cause mayhem — seriously, even anarchists disavow association with them. Secondly, BLM is largely peaceful but white people are incredibly threatened by them marching that law enforcement tends to go overboard. The neo-Nazis in Charlottesville look like a bunch of frat boys in their khakis and polo shirts — they haven’t experienced a day of persecution in their lives!
White people need to speak up and condemn these acts. Yes, crap does happen where African-Americans yell epithets at white folks — I experienced it living in Columbus, Ohio. However, I didn’t take it as personally as I could have because I knew that there was a lot of hurt and anger behind it that spans generations and that they were dealing with things that I would never experience. I have never had a landlord refuse to rent to me because of the color of my skin, I never had to attend a school that was sub-par because of the neighborhood in which it was located, and while my dad’s family fled persecution in Ireland in the 19th century and weren’t allowed into the States (long story), my ancestors were never considered mere pieces of property.
White people enjoy a very privileged status in this country and we need to use that privilege to SPEAK UP when there is injustice being committed. If a friend lost a family member or had a tragedy happen, you would speak up. Guess what? There are a number of communities in this country whose lives and well-being are threatened by the men marching in Charlottesville and WE NEED TO SAY SOMETHING.
July 19th was my 17th blogiversary and it passed quietly because of school and things in my personal life. As a way of ignoring the crappy health news I got today, here are are some ways my life has changed since I started blogging on July 19, 2000.
I’ve come full-circle in terms of relationships. When I started this blog, I was dating Jon. Then we went through our long engagement, marriage, a short separation, and now divorce. It’s a painful realization in a lot of ways but it also provides me with a record of the good times that I can look back upon eventually.
I have lived in five states. I had spent my life in California and was living with my parents over the summer before my senior year of college. Since then, I have lived in: Ohio, Minnesota, Montana, California (again), and now Washington. I’m glad to have had these experiences in seeing how people across the country live.
I have stopped coding largely by hand. For the first year, I coded by hand and then went to Livejournal, two iterations of Greymatter, Movable Type, back to Greymatter, b2, and then WordPress 12ish years ago. It’s good to know how to do some of it still so I can fix sidebars but I’d have to learn PHP to be able to create my own themes.
I’m Episcopalian again. At the time I started blogging, I was attending my Episcopal church at home and then attending an evangelical church at school. Eventually, I attended an LCMS church, went ELCA for 10 years, AALC for three years, and then became Episcopalian again.
Shared Quote… From CarouselConductor, a poster in one of the subreddits I frequent:
Loss. Whether a death, estrangement, or any other kind.
Losing someone leaves a hole. This hole is in the shape of the person who is gone. It has ragged, bleeding edges that hurt with every movement. It’s hard to even consider this void, because even looking at it brings pain. All you can do is hope that something fills it in, because it’s too wide. Too deep. Too open.
And then time passes. You remember the person, talk about them, the good times, the bad. The bleeding edges are still painful, but somehow, you can approach them a little closer. It’s tender, but the bleeding has been slowed. The void is keenly felt, and you wonder what it will take for it to just go away.
More time passes. It’s not so bad, when you look at the hole, now. You might be wondering when it will fill in. If you get too close, you can still see the echo of the person who left the hole. Peering into it might still be too much, and nothing moves the same way anymore. But the bleeding has stopped and the pain isn’t there every time you move.
As even more time goes by, you start to realize that things feel different, but that raging pain is more of a distant ache, now. If you look at the hole, you find that the edges are scarred over. The void is still there. The shape of what made it is still recognizable. And then you realize that the hole is there, and it will always be there.
The topography of what makes you, you, has changed.
The ragged edges have healed over and you find that in that thing you thought was a bottomless pit of pain, there is now a well of memories. It’s up to you if you visit for a time, or simply walk on by.
Give yourself time for the hole to heal. And it will heal, regardless of abstracts like forgiveness, regrets, blame, or anger. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.
Please seek help when dealing with the trauma of loss. No one should go through grief alone.
Closing Notes: My kickboxing class was cancelled for the fall and they emailed me today to let me know that I have priority enrollment for a yoga class they are adding.
My mom laughed at me when I told her, commenting that it’s another form of stress management. I looked at her and replied that I have a deep need to punch and kick things and they just took away my ability to do this!!!!
*goes off to sulk and find a local kickboxing class*
End of the quarter. I am two tests, two quizzes, a discussion post, a report, and an amended PowerPoint presentation away from being done with the quarter. The quizzes, discussion post, and report will be tackled on Sunday. PowerPoint will be amended either tomorrow or Saturday. The tests will be taken on Monday and Tuesday. After that, I AM DONE!!!
Unbelievable. I’ve been getting a lot of “On This Day” things on Facebook about Daniel this week because it has been 8 years (as of the 7th) since we were able to bring him home from the hospital. It’s so amazing to think that my tiny baby is now only a foot shorter than I am!
Getting fur out of my keyboard. Homer, my gorgeous grey loaner cat, is being extra affectionate tonight which is wonderful… except that my keyboard now has quite a bit of fur in it! *goes off to find a can of compressed air to clean it*
English placement test. Because my school apparently experiences perverse joy in making its students jump through hoops, I had to take an English placement test to get into one of two Communications classes for my program’s requirements. Apparently, my AP test score in English Composition and Literature doesn’t count nor does THE FACT THAT I HAVE A FREAKING B.A. AND PART OF A MASTER’S DEGREE.
So I bit the bullet and went to the testing center this evening and took it. 30 minutes and 20 reading comprehension questions later, the computer spit out the result that I qualify for the highest level English classes they offer.
You know you’re an Accounting geek when… I bribed myself to take the stupid placement test by promising myself that once it was over, I could go set up the Excel spreadsheets for this weekend’s Accounting problem set.
An excuse to drool over office supply websites. The required intro class for my program (that I am taking because apparently *working* as an administrative professional for 12 years does not mean that I am qualified to be one) requires a 6-8 minute presentation on the history of an office supply product of our choice. We brainstormed a list of possible topics in class today and I drew the #1 pick. My choice: datebook/planner/agenda because I want ALL THE PLANNERS. The Plum Paper website makes me giddy. There’s also Kelly’s book.
Birthday? Birthday! I had a fabulous time in Anacortes with my friend on Friday and a lovely time with the evil twin and his long-suffering wife last weekend (a.k.a. The Girl) as well. The Girl was able to leave work early on Friday so they were able to beat some of rush-hour traffic in Seattle and Tacoma to make it up to us in time for dinner. Saturday was the family dinner with them, my uncle, and grandma.
I got enough cash from my parents as a present to get a pedicure so I spent part of my Wednesday doing that while reading one of my textbooks for an online test I had to take for the intro class I was whining about in take #2. (I got a 98 on it which is amazing, given that my instructor writes insanely hard online tests because we can use books and notes on them.) My feet are all pumiced and pretty with sparkly pink nail polish on my toenails! (My mom laughs because it’s the only time I wear pink willingly.)
Memorial Day plans. Plans for this weekend are to go for a walk downtown with my friend/walking buddy tomorrow, go to a therapy appointment afterwards, and… do homework. Yeah… I have a *FABULOUSLY* interesting life. There will probably be things like church, coffee runs, and a few park trips with Daniel interspersed but my instructor this quarter (I have all three of my program-specific classes with her) has joked that she assigns as much homework as she can over holidays because she takes great joy in our suffering. She then adds that we get to torture her right after because she has to grade all of that work.
Birthday girl. So tomorrow is my 37th birthday. I pondered doing video takes like I did last year but I’m dealing with cold/allergies/asthma exacerbation so I’m feeling like I want to just go with the flow this year and do normal takes.
Plans for my natal feast. I’m headed to Anacortes with a friend tomorrow who wants to show me some of their favorite places and we have my evil twin and his long-suffering wife coming to dinner on Saturday night. My BFF Rebecca’s present arrived today ($tarbux — she knows me well 🙂 ) and I have the promise of gift cards to Old Navy and Kohl’s from my parents so I can start rebuilding my professional wardrobe.
Danielism #2. When I told him that it was time for his evening meds, he raced downstairs ahead of me. When I got to the kitchen, he handed me his peanut butter jar and a spoon and said, “Pee boah meds shower.” (Translation: “peanut butter, meds, shower”.) It’s the order of the starting things for his bedtime routine so it was nice to hear him tell me that part of his schedule.
Because cute. Usually, after he gets his shower, he goes and hangs out with my mom while she watches The Big Bang Theory so I can have my shower and not have to worry about him doing things like putting kitty litter in the bleach dispenser of the washer or climbing on the roof. Anyway, I ended up taking my shower early last Friday (before he got home from school) so I was just sitting in my room listening for him when I heard him heading toward my mom’s room. Then it got quiet. About 15 minutes later, he came to my room and told me he wanted milk. As I was walking downstairs past my mom’s room, I saw his tablet and two of his blankies on her bed. Apparently, he automatically took everything in there after his shower because that’s what he does (almost) every day and it was time. Mom was in heaven because apparently, he was being extra cuddly that night.